Special Care Baby
by Winner71
Summary: Chummy is on secondment to a Special Care Baby Unit. There she is given care of an unwanted premature baby from strange and dramatic circumstances.
1. Chapter 1: emergency delivery

**Rating** : T

 **Triggers** : premature birth and some implied violence

 **Preview** : Chummy is on secondment to a Special Care Baby Unit. There she is given care of an unwanted premature baby from strange and dramatic circumstances. My first fan fiction so be kind ;-) 

**Chapter 1  
**  
It is the 18th August, 1961, 2.27am. An ambulance races from the streets of Poplar towards the London Hospital, headlights cutting through thick smog as its bells ring. Inside a girl screams with pain as Sister Evangelina supports her. The girl lying down is visibly pregnant, but not hugely so, and as the Sister lifts her shabby green dress, the girl's legs are exposed and are covered in bruising. Sister Evangelina has already noticed her swollen eye and cheek, and checks her arms which are also bruised. Lifting her dress further to expose her bump, she sees severe bruising on her abdomen. She looks up at the attending doctor. This is not anything new. It is something they have seen many times on girls in Poplar.

"Lillian is 30 weeks pregnant, says she fell down the stairs and is having regular contractions," Sister Evangelina. "I arrived with her 2 hours ago, after her husband called Nunnatus House. Flying obstetric team indeed, never got here. Now I am stuck with you."

The girl yelps as the Sister performs an internal.

"She is currently 5cm dilated. This baby is coming, Lillian. We can't stop things, I don't know how long it will take, but I think we have time to get to the hospital."

Lillian cries out again with another contraction. When it eases she gasps "that one was the worst, I can't do this, I don't want to."

"I am here," the Sister reassures.

"Why can't you stop this? It's too early. I don't want my baby now."

"Lillian, you are losing your baby. There is nothing we can do but try and get to the hospital on time."

"He will die, it's too soon. Will I die? I feel like I could die, we could die together."

"You are safe, Lillian, but I can make no promises for your baby. It will be 10 weeks early. That is very early."

The doctor then speaks.

"We have a baby unit at the hospital with incubators. It all depends on whether your baby is developed enough to breathe yet."

Lillian weeps, and then gasps at another contraction. Sister Evangelina listens to her stomach through a pinard for a while as the contraction intensifies and then releases its agonising grip.

"The baby is not in any distress at this stage," she says to the doctor.

"He will live?" Lillian asks, eyes concerned.

"'I can't tell you that, Lillian. This is a very bad situation, my dear. God tries us in difficult ways, but we will do everything we can to save your baby. We may not succeed, I am very sorry."

Another contraction grips the girl and at its height she cries out,

'Oh let us both die! Please God just let us both die now."

"Now, now." Sister Evangelina chastises, "There is no need for that much drama, Lillian."

The smog slows the journey though and it takes over an hour to reach the London Hospital. As they pull into the grounds, Lillian is pushing.

"Are we there yet?" Sister Evangelina shouts furiously at the driver. "This baby can't wait any longer. It is crowning."

"The pain!" Lillian screams.

Sister Evangelina's voice softens.

"I know my dear, breathe through the pain, your baby's head is about to be born and I am right here."

The girls screams in agony, soaked in sweat and tears, exhausted with suffering and the Sister places a damp cloth on her brow.

"There now child, it will soon be over, the pain will soon be gone."

"He can't leave my body yet!"

"But he is, my dear. His head is almost born, you need to give a little push."

"No! No!" She cries, in spite of the pain, but her body pushes anyway and the girl screams long and loud as a tiny infant shoots from her body, caught by the Sister.

"Oh no, no, no," Lillian whimpers through the resulting silence, seeing a tiny arm, like a twig, dangle over the Sister's arm. The sister is breathing into the baby's mouth and finally, there is a splutter and a weak cry.

"She is breathing!" Sister Evangelina announces with a visible tear welling in her eye. "And you have a little girl, Lillian. She looks as early as we thought she would be so there is a battle ahead for her."

The ambulance pulls into the bay and the doors swing open to urgent voices. Lillian lays in a trance, looking at the tiny bundle of blankets being hurriedly taken from the Sister's arms by a doctor who runs with it from sight.

"Everyone will do their best for your daughter," Evangelina reassures but Lillian only wants to close her eyes and shut out the whole world. She hears the world 'shock' as a distant sound. She only wants to drift away into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2: Chummy's first day

**Chapter 2**

27th September, 1961. Special Care Baby Unit, the London Hospital. 

Chummy looked in the mirror, starting to wonder why she had agreed to this secondment. She had forgotten how clumsy she was, and wondered if a clumsy nature really was safe around tiny, poorly babies. 

"Now Chummy, you need to believe in yourself," she chastised at her reflection. "Yes, you do, you are forever telling yourself off and… quite frankly sounding like your own mother and…" 

Three nurses came into the staff room and Chummy was silent immediately, blushing, wondering whether they had noticed she was talking to herself. Not just talking to herself, but actually telling herself off and calling herself her own mother. 

"Goodness," she said, turning around and smiling shyly. "First day and all that! Nerves… well, no, not nerves. _Excitement_ and _anticipation_ , what?" 

The three nurses in front of her just stared, but Chummy was used to this. Women were supposed to be petite and neat and pretty like them, not a hair out of place, and she was, well, very big boned, very tall, hair that had a mind of its own, and glasses that never sat straight on her face. They were speechless, stood like frozen statues in their frilly hats and perfectly starched uniforms. They were probably about her age but may as well have been an entirely different species. 

Chummy straightened her dress, held out her hand and said, 

"Camilla Cholomondely-Brown, registered midwife, on secondment from Nunnatus House in Poplar. I am covering maternity leave on the Special Care Baby Unit, well, here." 

One of the nurses: a strawberry blonde with quite sharp eyes under her glasses shook her hand back and said, 

"Yes, we were expecting you. I am staff nurse Carter. I will go an inform Sister. Wait here." 

"I expect you were not expecting quite so much of me to arrive," Chummy laughed, but no-one responded and she was quickly alone again. She turned back to the mirror, put her hands on her head and sighed, 

"Oh dear, Chummy."

Her introductory tour of the ward was performed by a special small and very efficient nurse called Bridget. She walked and spoke very fast about the tiny babies in their care. There was no compassion in it though, it seemed, and Chummy felt her heart being torn to pieces by such helpless little scraps of life, alone from their mothers in the incubators. She had to focus her mind away from her distress to the information being given her and she knew the information was vital to their survival. 

"Yes, baby Thomson, born at 33 weeks, 3 pounds 1 ounce so on the small side. Caesarean, eclampsia, age 4 days, breathing well, mother doing well. Baby breathing independently, nasogastric tube, on mother's milk every four hours. He is now 3 pounds exactly, " She repeated. 

"Watch him for respiratory arrests. If he stops breathing rub his chest. If it continues call for help. He does it every few hours," Bridget replied. 

"Absolutely," Chummy replied, looking at the baby anxiously. She was led to the next incubator. 

"Our earliest baby, baby Smith, born at 28 weeks, 2 pounds 2 ounces, 3 days old, still breathing on oxygen, now weighing 1 pound 13 ounces. Weight loss is normal in the early days." 

"He's tiny," Chummy breathed. 

"He is only to be touched when absolutely necessary due to risk of infection. Babies this small cannot fight any kind of infection. That is how we lose them, mainly. He manages tiny bits of milk, feeding him is also particularly difficult. They sometimes cannot gain weight and fail to thrive. He is under the exclusive care of Nurse Carter today and as I will repeat, is absolutely not to be touched by yourself." 

"Absolutely." 

"Now, this is Joyce, born at 30 weeks in the back of an ambulance. Spontaneous delivery. Mother had a haemorrhage post-partum but recovered. She is now 41 days, gaining weight well after a difficult start, tube fed, feeding well, breathing normally. Now weighing 4 pounds 10 ounces" 

"She is beautiful," Chummy smiled, looking down at the girl, who had a good head of dark hair, and big open eyes that stared out at her from the incubator. 

"She will soon go into an open crib," Bridget said. "You will be watching Joyce and the open crib babies at first. Joyce is strong now and you will be able to get used to the incubators with her." 

"Are you thinking about discharging her soon?" Chummy asked. 

Bridget sighed and shrugged. 

"Not Joyce. Her mother never visits." 

"Oh! Goodness!" 

"Teenage mother," Bridget said. "Married but very young. She isn't interested. She wasn't interested on the maternity ward and since she went home 10 days ago, we have heard nothing from her." 

"Father?" Chummy asked. 

"He visits for an hour on Saturdays with his mother. He doesn't interact himself, just smokes outside. Grandmother seems very doting if a little difficult at times. Social services will be involved." 

"Poor mum. She may have failed to bond after such a frightening birth and being so poorly. Or perhaps it is postpartum depression. We might be able to fix the situation." 

"This is not community nursing, Nurse Brown. Focus on the babies. You will know yourself what those Poplar mothers can be like. They can be utterly unfit and disinterested. " 

"Oh, she must be one of ours," Chummy replied. 

"Not while you are here. Now, this is baby Rosemary. Her mother is always here, a terrible nuisance. Born at 31 weeks, 20 days ago. Gaining weight nicely and at 4 pounds was a good weight at the start. There is nothing wrong with her but her mother is in an endless and very demanding state of panic. She tried visiting outside of visiting hours even! You will meet her later." 

Such maternal concern sounded very healthy to Chummy but she said nothing. Besides, her mind was on Joyce's mother. She needed to talk to Sister Julienne about it, urgently. Why would the mother not visit at all? Why had she heard nothing about a discharged stressed mother at Nunnata? Maybe she couldn't afford the journey, maybe she was horribly depressed. 


End file.
